


A Bloody Bonding

by Wanderbird



Series: Fragments [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gerudo Desert - Freeform, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Stand Alone, with slightly more blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 08:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21158954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderbird/pseuds/Wanderbird
Summary: When King Rhoam assigned Zelda a twelve-year-old for a bodyguard, she was not expecting the poor kid to actually be able to fight.It is a very good thing that she was wrong.In which Zelda comes to grudgingly start to actually respect her new bodyguard, and appreciate his presence.(Starts during the Gerudo Oasis memory)





	A Bloody Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same universe as Quiet Minds, though it can stand alone, the ages might just be a little confusing. I thought I might be inspired to write more of these, and it turns out I was entirely correct! So, ah, expect more, as I go through the rest of the game. :)

_Run. Run, and don’t look back, _Zelda thought to herself, _and hope you make it to the oasis before they reach you. _

This was a terrible idea.  
She never should have come here, so near the base of the Yiga Clan. Never should have snuck away from her guards to investigate the ruins on her own, never should have lost track of time and stayed until nearly dawn. The sun was just starting to touch the horizon—but even if her guards had noticed her gone, they would not come to wake her until late. She’d been able to handle herself against these things for a little while, the royal sword heavy in her hand, but—there were just too many of them, and soon her blade was knocked out of her hand. And as much as Zelda hated to admit it, she’d been shirking at her training recently, and it wasn’t as if she’d ever really focused on combat anyway. It seemed so sensible at the time, I mean she had so many other duties—  
But Impa was right.

And now she would die here, alone in the desert, with her bodyguards only a few dozen feet away. And that poor kid—what would he think, if she died? That he’d failed? How _could_ he? Link was even younger than she was! How could anyone trust him to protect her any better than she could herself?

Zelda tripped, but caught herself, launching back up into a sprint. _Damn this sand, _she thought, _that slows me down so. _  
There was a blur of red and black, and another assassin stood in her path. Zelda tried to skid to a stop—too late. Her right toe caught on the stone, sending her lurching forward. Her balance slid, fast, too far to recover from. Her arms spread out to catch her, but her left leg buckled thanks to an unexpected shift, and she sprawled face-first in the sand.  
The Yiga assassins advanced.  
Slow, lumbering—what were they, anyway? Father said they were human, of course, some lost branch of Impa’s clan. Zelda doubted it. Looking at them now, the way they moved, hunched over and swinging at the shoulders, no human moved like that. Certainly not Impa, and all her warrior clan, who never said a word about these things.

A sickle rose, gleaming in the light of dawn.  
The mask over its owner’s face seemed to twist into something like a smile, taunting and smug and horribly _familiar, _the eye seeming to magnify itself in her vision_. _Zelda steeled herself for the blow.  
_This will not be the end, _she thought frantically, _I will not _let this _be the end. I will grab the blade and turn it back on my enemy, just like Impa said, and I will, I will…_

A clash of steel.  
When Zelda dragged her eyes back up, the assassin lay still and bleeding on the sand.

And above her—above her there stood Link, his stance wide, knees bent, no longer trembling for once in her presence. Instead, he looked… calm. Not confident, exactly, but strange and fell, and utterly certain in his skill, that antique sword resting perfect in his hand. His breath came slow and easy.

_Why do those Yiga members look so scared? _The thought murmured, dreamy and removed. _He’s only twelve. _But sure enough, the assassins danced away, flinching from the sword’s very sight. _The sword. Maybe that’s what’s scaring them? But there is something, _Zelda frowned, _so _familiar _in this scene. Link. The sword. The way he moves. I have never seen him quite this way before, the guards always try to spare him having to fight. I wonder if they’ve seen this. _The assassins attacked. Link lunged, and turned, and one among them toppled over with a cry, blood spurting on the sand. Zelda did not see it.  
Her eyes were fixed on her Champion.

Zelda was still staring when the last enemy teleported out in a blink of air.

Link crouched down before her, his head cocked to one side. How could he not be angry with her, after how _stupid _she had just been? But instead of berating her, her bodyguard gave only a worried smile, and reached out one gloved hand to help her up.

“Link…” Zelda blinked at last, her eyes burning from the dryness and the sand. His arm was firm when she levered herself up. Brushed sand from her vest, her hands damp with red. “You—” _saved me? No, it wasn’t over yet. _“Thank you for the help.” She managed a queasy smile in response, trying her best not to look at the corpse of the first assassin on the ground, the only one who had been too dead to flee. Her hands shook. Why was she starting to cry? Everything was alright now, everything would be alright. 

She did not take her eyes off him.

Link was back to his normal behavior now, more or less, focusing on her with rapt attention as he cleaned the sword off on his tunic. Zelda swallowed.  
“You don’t have to watch me like that, you know. I’m hardly going to run off and nearly get myself killed again less than a minute after you… intervened.”  
Link shrugged. The growing red stain on his tunic transfixed her, though it still left smears of blood along the blade as he wiped it off, a long and graceful gesture. Slid the sword back into its sheath. How could he be so unbothered by the blood? How could he, when Zelda had seen him, seen him… no. He was not dead. Link was not dead, not even hurt, that she could tell, and why did his tunic look almost _green _in this light?

“I left my weapon there,” she said. “In the ruins. We will have to go back, you know, to pick it up.”  
Link’s eyes flicked back to her. A brief nod.  
“But perhaps this time we should wait until later.” Zelda moistened lips cracked from the arid winds. She hated having a full complement of guards with her, on these expeditions, tramping around and messing with her excavation sites. Link, perhaps, would be a bit less troublesome, and evidently he could defend her perfectly well. He was even her official bodyguard! Father had no grounds to complain (and had he known how well the poor kid fought, when he assigned him to her?). Plus, Link, at least, knew how to obey orders, even from a Princess as young and inexperienced as she. Already, a plan began to form. “Perhaps come nightfall, when it’s cooler, we can leave the company back here and explore the ruins on our own?”  
Link’s gaze seemed to twinkle with some kind of amusement. He nodded.

Zelda wiped her eyes. “You have _got _to find another tunic, though,” she gave a watery chuckle, that faded when Link glanced down as if surprised to find all that blood. “Come on. Let’s get some breakfast, and let Zara patch me up.”  



End file.
